


The Sweetest Condition

by Sashataakheru



Series: Brothers In Christ [4]
Category: The Move RPF
Genre: Deleted Scenes, Friendship, Georgian Period, Healing, M/M, Magic AU, Porn Battle, Protection, Religious Persecution, Scars, Sex Magic, Time Magic, established universe, physical assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 05:59:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6362206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you need a bit of help to find your strength. Sometimes, all it takes is a little sex, and a little magic, and someone who cares enough to gift it to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Condition

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Brothers In Christ: A Soldier's Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/767551) by [Sashataakheru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru). 



> Written for the Porn Battle Prompt Stack (March 2016), for the prompt, 'RPF (The Move), Bev Bevan/Carl Wayne, protection, arms, strength, AU'. 
> 
> Scene I had planned to use, but didn't end up writing, for Brothers In Christ: A Soldier's Love, which I have now written for Porn Battle because Porn Battle woo. 
> 
> Basically, this is what happened in chapter 8, when Lord Aylesford takes Lord Stafford aside for a chat after the ball. It never got written, because the POV for that story didn't work, but I always knew it happened, even though I never wrote it. So I thought I'd write it for Porn Battle, so I can forget about it, and move on to other things.

The retreating steps of Sir Roy drifted away as he went upstairs, leaving Lord Aylesford and Lord Stafford alone. Lord Aylesford waited until Sir Roy was completely out of sight before he took Lord Stafford by the arm, and they withdrew into his office. 

"What was it you wished to discuss that could not wait until another day?" Lord Stafford asked as Lord Aylesford closed the door, and drew the curtains. 

Lord Aylesford's reply was a soft kiss, his hands gently touching his cheeks. "We have not had enough time to ourselves, and I miss you."

"You would ask me for this when your companion is upstairs waiting for you?" Lord Stafford said, unsure whether this was quite the right time for intimacy.

Lord Aylesford stepped back and set some wards in place, gesturing symbols he did not recognise. The final magical casting surrounded the room in a soft blue light, and no sound could he heard except for the soft crackling of the fire.

"You know me well enough that my body is more freely given than my heart. We have shared too much, my friend, for me to cast you aside. I would love you, my friend, if you would let me," Lord Aylesford said, offering his hand to the baron.

"And if anyone should see us?" Lord Stafford asked.

"We are set apart from time. No one will find us. We will emerge, and little time will have passed. We can share all our love freely. There is no hurry," Lord Aylesford said.

Lord Stafford had to smile. It was an ingenious use of time magic, though perhaps not one the Council of the Magi would smile upon. "You have always been driven by your desires, my lord, and I see that has not changed. You are clearly hungry tonight if you would not wait until tomorrow."

Lord Aylesford moved close to him, and rested his hands on his hips. "You are not often so freely available. You would not have me let you leave without some thanks for your care of my companion tonight?" 

"I need no reason to be with you tonight. I have missed you, too," Lord Stafford said.

Lord Aylesford kissed him, fiercely, holding him close. Lord Stafford melted into his embrace. Lord Aylesford always knew how to make him feel safe. His arms were a shield, his strength kept him safe, when those who did not understand his veneration of Oriental gods wished to silence an idolator, a non-believer. He still had the scars from the beatings, scars he would tell no one else about. Without Lord Aylesford's protection, he would be dead. 

Lord Aylesford was gentle. Seated together on the lounge, they slowly undressed, taking their time. Perhaps, sometimes, Lord Aylesford would take his pleasure and leave, when time was short, when Lord Stafford needed the pay-off more than the caresses. Tonight, as they slowly peeled off their finery from the royal ball earlier in the evening, tonight, was for tenderness. For once, Lord Aylesford untied his hair, letting his long dark hair fall down past his shoulders. Lord Stafford could not help running his fingers through it, feeling how soft his hair was, and how it had been scented with oils. 

Lord Aylesford held him close, lying beside him, his arms showing their strength. Lord Aylesford never looked more like a soldier than when he was naked, his scars and bruises left visible for the world to see. There were some fresh bruises tonight, particularly on his knuckles, and a large one on his shoulder, from a rather tedious and nasty fight with Lord Warwick earlier in the evening. Sir Roy had only seen the first punch, but he had missed the rest of the fight, where Lord Aylesford had to subdue the quarrelsome, drunken Earl and leave him in the hands of the palace guards. Lord Aylesford had triumphed in the end, using his strength, and his authority, to enforce calm and obedience. 

Lord Stafford lifted the Earl's hand, and kissed the bruised knuckles. "I do not know why you still entertain him, my lord. He is not worth your time."

Lord Aylesford kissed him, and his hand slowly moved down the baron's body, and between his legs. "I am a soldier, my friend. I cannot back away from a fight. The King will think me a coward."

Lord Stafford went to reply, when the Earl squeezed him gently, and his mind was suddenly barren of thought. He closed his eyes and let go, giving in to Lord Aylesford as his hands, his strength, took over. Lord Stafford was not always a wilting flower, but tonight, seeing Lord Aylesford protecting Sir Roy the way he had protected him had softened his heart. 

He moved onto his back as the Earl slowly eased his breeches down his legs, exposing him completely. He gazed up at Lord Aylesford as he carefully removed the last of his clothing and let it fall to the floor. Knowing how much the suit had cost, it did seem careless to leave it in a crumpled heap on the floor, but then Aylesford stroked his legs, and eased him into position, and Lord Stafford just did not care. 

His arms held him down as much as they supported him. Lord Stafford traced a scar with his fingers, the long angry mark down his arm, remembering how close he'd come to losing the Earl after that fateful attack. His own injuries had not seemed so significant as the Earl's, though that was not true. He had been bedridden for two months, his broken bones refusing to mend with any sense of speed. The long wound on the Earl's arm had bled quickly. That he had survived, and had recovered in less than a month, seemed nothing short of a miracle. The gods, it seemed, did not wish to take the Earl just yet. 

Lost in his thoughts, the sensation of the Earl nibbling on his collarbone brought him back to the reality around him, and he smiled as he gazed up at the Earl. Lord Aylesford moved beside him, and held him close, sensing a shift in his mood. 

"What troubles you, my friend?" Lord Aylesford said, offering a soft kiss to his head. 

"I love your scars as much as I hate them. I know which ones you bore for me, which ones you have because of me, and it troubles me. You should not have to carry my burdens, nor protect me from harm," Lord Stafford confessed in a moment of vulnerability. 

"If I will not protect the weak, the minorities, those who cannot protect themselves, what good am I as a Christian? You cannot tell me you would have fought off those men and lived," Lord Aylesford said.

"Perhaps they should have killed me, so I would not be in your debt," Lord Stafford said. 

Lord Aylesford touched his chin, and kissed him gently. "Take me, then. Take back your power. Find your strength again. I do not like to see you like this, my friend."

Lord Stafford almost refused, but Lord Aylesford soon encouraged him with his hands, stroking him firmly as they locked eyes with each other. Desire, it seemed, would win tonight, and Lord Stafford found his courage. 

They remained on the lounge, as Lord Stafford bid the Earl kneel as he prepared him. There, on his back, another scar he had borne for him, but Lord Stafford would not be defeated by it this time. Holding the Earl close with his arm, he gently eased inside him, kneeling behind him, cherishing their closeness. 

The Baron held him close as he moved, not holding back. Lord Stafford could feel the strength returing to his body as he thrust inside him, taking pleasure and power from it. It was not a gentle fuck, but that was not what either wanted. Lord Aylesford was willing, and forgiving, as Lord Stafford held him close as he finished, thrusting hard into him. He did not pull out immediately, allowing their breathing to steady as he drank in their closeness. 

When they finally moved apart, the Earl lay behind him to finish off, gently taking pleasure from him. Lord Aylesford did not move from him readily. Lord Stafford was certain there was some sort of magic going on, binding them tightly as they were so intimately connected. Lord Aylesford thrust a little, teased his own flaccid prick, but ultimately let their pleasure drift off.

"You owe me nothing, my friend. I would do it all again if they decided to attack you tomorrow. Accept this pleasure for what it is. Take strength from me. Take all you need. I am at your service," Lord Aylesford murmured into the night. 

Lord Stafford smiled, feeling so exquisitely safe as he lay there with the Earl. Feeling the Earl filling him, connecting so closely with him, and the power he was sending him, it was overwhelming. His prick got hard again from all the power surging through him, and when he went to rid himself of his arousal, the Earl took it in hand, and guided him over the edge again. He felt the Earl's erection growing as he worked him, then the gentle thrusts, and the heat that came from their actions. 

That moment of release left Lord Stafford breathless, and utterly spent. His fingers tingled with power and magic, and he let off some sparks of nothingness, just to help ground him. His head was swimming with colours and energy. He might have fainted had the Earl not touched him, and held him, and flushed him with Water magic until he was calm again.

They sat facing each other on the floor, naked, moonlight drifting in from the window outside. Lord Aylesford took his hands, and leaned in to kiss him. 

"Are you alright now? Are you safe to return home?" Lord Aylesford asked.

"I think so, yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord. You did not need to give me so much," Lord Stafford said.

Lord Aylesford reached for his cheek, and smiled at him gently. "I would give the world for you, my friend."


End file.
